


The Weight of The Darkness

by DeeSquirrel2y5



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adam Being A Brat, Awesome Missouri, Boys Kissing, Castiel's Trenchcoat, Confusion, Crazy Castiel Speaking In Riddles, Crazy!Castiel, Dean Getting Hurt A Lot, Dean wanting to bang everything that moves, Drug Use, Endverse Castiel - Freeform, Endverse!Lucifer, Even More Fog, Even more confusion, Heaven, Human Castiel, Hurt Dean Winchester, I Don't Even Know, I'm Bad At Tagging, Lucifer Being a Dick, M/M, Maybe Some Memories, Meg 2.0 - Freeform, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, No real tags yet, Or Is It Adam, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The Darkness - Freeform, The Darkness being her dark self, allusions to character death, angel voice - Freeform, but not first fic ever, but not really, first fic on AO3, i will get better, maybe maybe not heaven, more people too, my own head hurts, poor baby, stick with me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-12 14:32:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7109239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeeSquirrel2y5/pseuds/DeeSquirrel2y5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inside the Impala, a man. The owner of the car. A man who fondly called the car Baby. A man who knew his car had protected him from uncountable things over the many years he and his father before him had possessed her. A man who knew that his car, his perfect piece of machinery was his home. For it may not have had four walls and a roof, but the man knew he had never in his life in fact, been homeless. This man sitting in his most loved possession, shrouded in darkness, surrounded by nothing, this man knew in fact, that he was dead.</p>
<p>"Well fuck," He muttered. "Not again."</p>
<p>Or: Where Dean is possibly going a bit crazy and looking for his memories, and his love.</p>
<p>(PS: I suck at summaries)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redfeatherboa333](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redfeatherboa333/gifts).



> So this is my first fan fiction post on Ao3. I'm over on Tumblr as well, but I used to write on Live Journal. I really hope this is enjoyed because I have a lot more ideas! Thanks to RedFeatherBoa333 for convincing me to write again!

A lone Impala sat in the middle of a deserted highway, nothing around for miles on either side. Only more road behind and in front of the black beast of machinery. The sun had gone down many hours before it seemed, full dark covered the world, hardly any stars in the sky. Really, there was nothing but darkness.

Inside the Impala, a man. The owner of the car. A man who fondly called the car Baby. A man who knew his car had protected him from uncountable things over the many years he and his father before him had possessed her. A man who knew that his car, his perfect piece of machinery was his home. For it may not have had four walls and a roof, but the man knew he had never in his life in fact, been homeless. This man sitting in his most loved possession, shrouded in darkness, surrounded by nothing, this man knew in fact, that he was dead.

"Well fuck," He muttered. "Not again."

 

Dean sat up, his vision blurry, he tried to rub his eyes. He looked out is window, fearing what might be outside his car. He fiddled with the radio, hoping that Cas, his best friend, could do something similar to what he had done the last time Dean found himself dead.

"C'mon Cas, Angel Radio, right? Where are ya buddy? In fact, where am I? Cause really? I don't think Heaven's letting me in a second time." He chuckled and sat back, ignoring the radio for the time being. He tilted his head back against the leather seat and closed his eyes.

Suddenly he heard a rumbling, rumbling like too much thunder. It shook the car and the man inside of it. Dean's eyes shot open, looking out the window only to find a swirling mass of fog that hadn't been there only moments before. It was black, deeper than that even. It truly seemed to be the pure absence of light. 

The ground shook harder and Dean pulled down his seat belt, turning the key in the ignition but to no avail. Grunting, he ducked down, his head between his knees, and his hands covered his head. He covered his head and he braced. Braced for something. Braced for anything. Then a bolt of lightening so bright Dean swore he could feel it burning his skin, struck the Impala. The impact throwing the car into the air like it was a ball bounced by God himself. Dean braced, felt like a rag doll, and prayed.

"Cas, Cas buddy. Please hear me. I… I need you man. Need your help in the worst way. C'mon angel, can you get me out of this mess?" His words were becoming drowned out by the noise of the too powerful thunder. It seemed time had come to a halt. His car in mid air, upside down. He prayed. Words meaningless, intent clear. Need dominating. "C'mon man, please?" He near whispered. He sighed and the world started to move again. The car fell, slamming into the ground with enough force to make a crater.

Dean's head hurt, his vision was fuzzy, there was a ringing in his ears that he couldn't shake. His hands shaking, he slipped his buckle off, letting himself fall to the roof of the car, head first. He turned his head, looking out the broken window and all he could see was nothingness. He blinked, bit his lip, and tried to crawl out of the wreckage.

The fog was heavy, heavier than should have been possible. It ate up all of the oxygen. It pressed down on Dean's lungs leaving him to gasp for nonexistent air. He looked up, swearing when he caught sight of a lone figure out in the night. It looked like a woman, a woman who seemed to have no trouble standing in the middle of what Dean could only call a hell of a storm.

It seemed that the woman looked over to him, their eyes meeting as Dean fell to his knees, coughing so hard he worried he would black out. The next time he was able to look up, a new figure was next to the first. Both postures held rigid. Another bolt of lightening struck, another heavier swirl of fog pressed down, and Dean fell to his face, no longer able to hold himself up. The last thing he heard over the roar was someone screaming "No!" But he couldn't tell which one had spoke. Possibly either, maybe both. Dean decided it didn't matter as he felt his eyes close, and in a blink, there was nothing.


	2. Half Past Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean sighed, tipping the bottle back to his lips and chugging the rest down. "Thanks anyway man." He said, taking out his wallet to pay for his drink. He stood up, dropping the bills to the counter and nodding at the bartender before turning to make his exit. He really needed to find a place to bed down, and damn was his duffle wearing him down.
> 
> Outside was colder than it had been earlier, and Dean was already missing the warmth of the Roadhouse. He supposed he could just turn around and go back in, maybe drink for the night, possibly even hook up with that pretty blonde, he'd for sure get a bed for the night that way.
> 
> Or: Where Dean can't remember what he probably should just forget!

He woke up gasping, in his head his brain was trying to pound out an escape. All he could remember was highway, his car, and a thought of someone… Someone who was supposed to help him. Dean knew that someone was important.

He thought he remembered blackness, however when he looked around himself now he could see fields, fields and a worn down building beside him. The lights spelling out 'Roadhouse' were blinking out at random, and a bit far from welcoming. Sighing, he turned to his car ready to just get in and drive, but Baby was no longer there.

"God dammit!" He growled out, kicking at a rock under his foot.

Sighing, rubbing the back of his neck, he started walking towards the broken down building. He couldn't think of much else he could do anyway. No car, no weapons, no phone. Yeah, he was screwed. Past the doors was a friendly atmosphere, but only a few people inside. Behind the counter was a man with a mullet an a sleeveless flannel shirt. The guy was wiping down the bar in front of him, and only spared a side eyed look at Dean, and shot him a small grin. At one of the tables sat an older woman, dark hair and even darker eyes, beautiful even though you could tell she had lived hard. She had gone through hell and kicked it in the ass.

That thought sent a headache pounding behind Dean's eyes, so he shook his head, trying to find whatever memory the thought had surfaced, but with no luck.

At the same table was a young girl. Her blonde hair in pretty waves, her dark eyes sharp. It seemed like the two women were deep into a conversation so Dean decided to leave them alone. There was one other person in the bar, a man about Dean's own height, maybe a bit shorter. His hair a dark brown it was almost black. And as he looked up to Dean their eyes met. Dean had never seen bluer eyes, and something about them sent a shockwave through him. He was supposed to remember. What was he supposed to remember? Was someone supposed to be helping him? He looked back to the man, taking him all in, ratty black tee shirt and a red hoodie. The guys pants didn't even fit, a size too big. He had a rag in his hands and he was wiping down one of the tables.

He shook the familiarity from his mind and walked up to the bar. "Hey Hombre!" The mulleted man said in a cheerful tone.

"Do I know you?" Dean asked as he sat himself on one of the safest looking stools. 

"Maybe you do, maybe you do." With a grin and that cryptic answer, the man uncapped a bottle of El Sol and placed it in front of Dean. 

"Thanks man." Dean tried to keep from touching the bar as much as possible, it just looked sticky, but he picked up the bottle anyway, taking a swig before asking, "So, you know of any place to stay around here? I'm basically dead on my feet."

The odd man just grinned and shook his head. "Sorry man, but good luck with that buddy!"

Dean sighed, tipping the bottle back to his lips and chugging the rest down. "Thanks anyway dude." He said, taking out his wallet to pay for his drink. He stood up, dropping the bills to the counter and nodding at the bartender before turning to make his exit. He really needed to find a place to bed down, and damn was his duffel wearing him down.

Outside was colder than it had been earlier, and Dean was already missing the warmth of the Roadhouse. He supposed he could just turn around and go back in, maybe drink for the night, possibly even hook up with that pretty blonde, he'd for sure get a bed for the night that way.

He turned, contemplating his chances with the girl, when he heard someone speak from the side of the building. "Leaving already?" He heard a gruff voice, like whiskey and smoke. Dean looked to where the voice was coming from, and from the darkness of the side of the bar stepped out the man he had seen inside. It was the man with the dark hair, and blue eyes. As the man stepped even closer Dean could make out more about him. His dark hair was messy, and his clothes were ratty as hell, making Dean wonder if the man was homeless. He was tempted to ask, to find out if he knew of a place Dean could stay for the night. "Do you think that's wise Dean, leaving now?" Dean watched as mystery man's full pink chapped lips shaped his name. 

'Wait' Dean thought. 

"How do you know my name?" He asked, his head beginning to hurt again. He gripped his temple and squinted through the pain at the other man. There was something sad, almost heartbreaking in the other man's face.

"You should watch out Dean, it's rolling in again." His gruff voice was getting rougher with whatever emotions he was feeling. 

"What are you talking about man?" Dean realized he was screaming. He hadn't even noticed the sound of a sudden force of wind, but he could hear it now. Could hear it and feel it getting closer. "What am I supposed to do?" He begged the other man to have answers, any answer, just to make it all stop.

"I'm sorry Dean, I truly am. But you need to run Dean," He spoke again, his voice a soothing dark chocolate, whiskey, and rocks. "Go Dean! Go!" The last part was screamed as Dean felt himself falling, felt himself being pulled apart at every angle. It was the last thing Dean heard before everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand that's chapter one! I'll get chapter two and possibly three up tomorrow or the next day. Maybe even more of it if I can edit fast enough! I really hope people are liking this, because I'm really trying to dust off the rust of not writing for so long. Again, my thanks to the fabulous redfeatherboa333 for kicking my ass into gear!   
> So far, I have no beta, so if anyone wants to be my beta reader just let me know!   
> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos would be wonderful! Love to you all!


	3. Take Me Down The Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We are all fragments in a shared perception." The man muttered as he came out of the fields, tossing the joint to the ground. He kept walking until he was almost against Dean, the musky smell of weed lingering in the air around him. "Its not my job to decide how it works. It could be anyone's. But perhaps its our fearless leader's job."
> 
> Or: Where Dean gets called a lot of names, gets kissed by a stoner, and still can't remember a damn thing.

Dean came to in the middle of the woods, it was still full dark and he had no idea where he was or what he was supposed to do. All he had on him were the clothes on his back and the duffle bag lying next to him. He sat up rubbing his aching head and wishing he had some memory. A memory of any kind truthfully. Anything would've been helpful. The rain was coming down hard and he really had no clue where he was meant to go.

He stood up, brushing the wet leaves and dirt of his back. Looking around the only thing he could see was a barn in the distance. Deciding he really had nothing else to do, and not a whole hell of a lot to loose he started walking. The leaves crunched underneath his heavy boots, but besides that, there weren’t many sounds in the… Well it seemed to be a forest, but why would a barn be in the middle of a forest? As he reached the barn he saw an opening in the structure, a crack in the wooden wall. Ducking down he peered between the boards. 

Inside were two men. One of them wore a flannel jacket and a trucker cap. Something about him seemed familiar, but at least the guy didn't strike a massive reaction in Dean's brain like the second man did. 

The guy looked tall, maybe a bit shorter than Dean himself. Dressed in a tan trench coat and suit, he really didn't look like he belonged in a barn out in the middle of nowhere. Tax accountant was more like it. Tax accountant turned, seeming to sense that Dean was there and they locked eyes. Blue eyes like the hunter had never seen before, almost glowing. And then Dean was knocked on his ass from a bolt of painful recognition in his head.

By a force not his own Dean was suddenly standing in the barn as well, facing off against Tax Accountant and Burly Trucker Hat. He didn't feel like he was in danger, but really, it wasn't like he really knew what was happening. Plus, Trucker Hat had a sawed off shotgun in his hands and Tax Accountant held a shining blade like nothing Dean had ever seen before. So, maybe he was in trouble. But weapon or no, Dean knew he could hold his own. 

"Dean, this is not your time." The man with the glowing blue eyes said to him. "You don't belong."

Okay, so now Dean was getting annoyed. "What the fuck are you talking about? Who are you to tell me I don't belong?" He growled out.

"He's right boy, now git on out of here. S'not your time yet. Not even mine." Trucker Hat said, tapping his shotgun against his boot.

"You must go before it comes again Dean, you have to." Blue eyes spoke again.

"I don't have anywhere to go though." Dean nearly screamed. Something had started coming in through the cracks in the walls, it rolled in like black fog.

"Balls." Trucker Hat huffed out.

"He doesn't think he deserves to be saved." Blue Eyes added, shaking his head in what appeared to be sadness. 

"Then we ain't gonna be either." The man with the shotgun said dejectedly. 

"I just want to rest, isn't there anywhere I can go?" Dean asked pleadingly, his voice barely audible over the swirling fog.

"Not yet I'm afraid son. Now git before it's here completely!" The older man commanded, pointing to the door with his shotgun. 

"This isn't the time." The man in the trench coat said, again sounding as if his heart was breaking. "You really must go Dean. Go, NOW!" His voice rung out so high the glass from the boarded up windows shattered down around them. The fog swept through stronger then, surrounding them completely. "He doesn't think he deserves to be saved." The thought hurt his head, sent it pounding. The darkness of the fog was everywhere, all Dean knew was blackness. Blackness and that man's deep gravel voice. Dean tried holding on to the memory, but he could already feel it slipping away. "Soon." He heard the whiskey rough voice whisper, and suddenly there was nothing but black, and Dean couldn't feel a thing.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

The next time Dean came to, the barn was gone, and he lay between four fields. He could feel rocks digging into his back, and his duffle was underneath his head. He sat up stretching his back until he felt it pop, taking the moment to look at his surroundings. Above him the sky was black, more so than he'd ever seen it before, as if all the stars had burned out and disappeared.

"And maybe they all have Squirrel, maybe they're not coming back any time soon." Dean whipped his head around to face the man who's British accent was grating on his last nerve. He was a short portly man, dark hair receding, and a well put together black suit.

"Oh Deano," Said a saccharine but sharp voice. "Always knew you had a thing for the darker side of life." She purred. The woman was actually kind of hot, Dean thought. Long brown hair falling around her face in loose curls. She was small, but there was something not quite right about her, something that made her intimidating.

"Do I even know either of you?" Dean asked, standing up slowly like he was trying not to provoke a bear. He dusted off his backside, chancing a look around. Deeper into one of the fields stood a man. A vaguely familiar man, but Dean just couldn't place him. Dark messy hair that appeared black in the night, and he wore a shirt that Dean could only classify as hippy wear, and black cargo pants with a gun holster at the thigh. 

Finally the man looked up and their eyes met. Blue was all Dean could see, an almost glowing blue, bluer than Dean could ever remember seeing. The man winked, actually winked, and brought a joint to his lips with a slight nod of his head. He had the oddest smirk in place as he inhaled.

Dean looked away as he felt the beginnings of a headache, and before he felt even more drawn to this man he didn't know. He found himself looking at the ground and realized he was standing in the middle of a crossroads. 

"Not metaphorically either." The woman said with a laugh.

"Well it could be, and it may not be. But of course you know that. You have to understand Squirrel." The business man replied.

"No he doesn't. That's not how this works. Is it Clarence?" The woman asked.

"We are all fragments in a shared perception." The man muttered as he came out of the fields, tossing the joint to the ground. He kept walking until he was almost against Dean, the musky smell of weed lingering in the air around him. "Its not my job to decide how it works. It could be anyone's. But perhaps its our fearless leader's job." He grinned, looking over to Dean. "Who knows though," He went on, laying his palm on Dean's shoulder, sending a jolt through him. Dean gasped, nearly recoiling but was held fast by the other man. "Quite incouscent." He muttered, his hand never leaving Dean's arm. The grip tightened to the point Dean was clenching his jaw so as to not make a sound. The smaller man drew closer in front of Dean, his blue eyes truly glowing. "Terribly incouscent." Blue eyes muttered again, biting his lip. 

"No one's ever heard of personal space." The woman huffed.

"Not here darling, not ever here." Business man replied. "Being where we are, I'd say that personal space has no existence. Perhaps it died as well."

Something about that comment dug at Dean's mind, scratched at the part of it that couldn't seem to hold any recollections at all. Died… Dead… Death… Nothingness… Dar-

Suddenly there was a loud noise, like thunder rolling in. Someone whistled and Dean looked over to find the woman holding his duffel. She tossed it at him and it landed at his feet. Dean noticed her eyes had turned black and she laughed. "My, my Deano, its just getting heavier and heavier." She singsonged. 

He reached down for the strap of his bag, giving Mr. Blue Eyes a look so the man would move his hand. He grinned again before dropping his hand and stepping out of Dean's space, and Dean felt the absence like a cold burn on his arm. "Fragments Dean, remember that. Or don't. It doesn't matter all that much anyway."

The noise was growing louder, and where before there had been fields, there was nothing now. Nothing but darkness, darkness that was getting heavier, almost suffocatingly so. He pulled his bag onto his shoulder prepared to start walking, running, anything just to get away from the fog surrounding him.

"Careful Squirrel." Business Man said. "Who knows what lies that way."

Blue Eyes had turned around and started walking, kicking at rocks as he went. "That way… Reckless. Truly reckless. There is no way. But hey, why not bang a few gongs before the lights go out!"

The next thing Dean knew, the smaller man was all over him. His arms wrapped tightly behind Dean's neck, and his chapped full pink lips were pressed almost punishingly against Dean's own. 

"Clarence, that's against the rules." The woman cooed.

"What do you know of rules pet? You've never followed them before." The portly man huffed.

"There is no reason to here. Free as a caged bird." She responded. "Clarence, you know it won't change a thing."

'Clarence' supposedly his name was, sighed as he pulled away from the kiss. "You should be going Dean, its not this time yet. Nothing here is right. Or wrong truly. But if I hold any faith, its in you now." He placed one more kiss to Dean's lips before he turned away and began to walk down the road. And watching him, Dean had to wipe away a tear that had appeared on his cheek.

"Don’t worry love, soon I'm sure." The British man spoke.

"Too far on the other side Deano, catch ya then, maybe." The woman purred, but there was nothing pleasurable in her sensual laugh that followed. 

'Remember Dean! Come on, you have to remember. You know there's someone out there, someone who's supposed to help you out.' Dean thought to himself before suddenly the fog had rolled in over him, crushing him until all he knew was darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I combined two chapters this time because the others were so short. Let me know if you like the chapters longer, or if you'd like me to go back to posting two short chapters at a time. Comments, kudos, love? I thank you all for following me on this wacked out journey, and hopefully it will all make sense in the end!


	4. Waiting On Judgment Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I can't, its not time yet. At least I don't think." He replied, finally looking over to Dean. As their eyes locked a shiver went down Dean's spine. Seeing his reaction the man spoke again. "Though maybe it's closer than we think." His whisky deep voice soothed Dean, calming him from fears he hadn't realized he was feeling. 'Emanuel' supposedly, even though the name felt wrong to him, bent forward to place a kiss on Dean's lips. "For healing." He added, a small smile gracing his face.

There were sounds all around Dean as he woke up. A duffle underneath his head. He sat up to stretch and realized that his jacket was gone. The night was cold, and damn was it night. No moon or stars in the sky, no street lights or anything of the like. He shook his head and stood up, tossing his bag over his shoulder and nearly falling under the weight. He sighed, looking around when he heard the sounds of a river. Shrugging his shoulders with nothing else to do, he walked towards the sound. 

Finally he found himself next to a small river, the water dark and somewhat scary to look into. He noticed something in the river, something that looked like a piece of clothing. He bent down, his knees protesting the whole way. Picking up a stick he lent over the water, hooking the item and pulling it up out of the water. He laid it out on the grass, looking it over. Something about it was so familiar, painfully so, but he couldn't grasp the memory. His eyes stung like tears, but he had no reason to cry that he knew of. 

Standing up, he folded the trench coat and placed it in his duffle for safe keeping. Still not sure why he planned to keep it safe. It wasn't like his bag wasn't heavy enough already. He shook his head to clear it and started walking again. 

There were voices up ahead of him, so he made his way to them. After a few minutes he found himself in front of a cemetery, Stull, the decaying sign said. He gently pushed the gate open before walking inside and looking around. To his left he saw two people, a young man and a young woman. The man's black hair looked unruly in the darkness, but even without the moon the woman's hair shined red. The two were bent over a grave and appeared to be digging it by hand. 

"It's not our time, is it?" The man asked.

"No, but it's also not, not our time. Its never meant to be our time really. Sorry buddy." The woman replied before sinking her hands into the dirt again.

"It's cool. I kind of knew when it came and when it will again." The man said with a smile.

"If it ever does child!" Dean turned around to see a small but plumb black woman looking at the two young grave diggers. "You know how these things can go on." She added, a small smile on her face. "Sugar," She said, looking at Dean. "Join me." It seemed a question but it was phrased as a command. Without much else to do, Dean followed.

The ended up on a bench, playground behind them and cemetery in front. Dean tried to ignore the two young gravediggers, but it was a hard thing to ignore. 

"Doubt they mind hun, don't you worry. But you know that's not what's important." She said with a smile, patting Dean's knee. 

Dean sighed, looking out over the rows of headstones and monuments. Sitting on top of one of the monuments were two people. A woman with long red hair and large eyes. The man had blonde hair and was picking at his nails, kicking his feet against the walls of stone. 

"Never mind him dear, he's always waiting on Judgment day. Weather it get's finished or not. Don't really know what his plans are. Fact, probably something similar to your plans." She smiled.

"I don't have any plans, I don't even know where I am or what's going on." Dean replied, anxiety squeezing his heart.

"Of course not. There's no time for that yet. There may be some later though." As the woman was finishing her sentence, a familiar looking man walked by the bench. Dark hair mussed. Blue button up sweater and corduroy pants couldn't possibly have been keeping him warm enough. But the man didn't seem to notice. "Emanuel sweetie," The lady started, pausing as the man turned around. "Why don't you come sit?" She finished sweetly.

"I can't, its not time yet. At least I don't think." He replied, finally looking over to Dean. As their eyes locked a shiver went down Dean's spine. Seeing his reaction the man spoke again. "Though maybe it's closer than we think." His whisky deep voice soothed Dean, calming him from fears he hadn't realized he was feeling. 'Emanuel' supposedly, bent forward to place a kiss on Dean's lips. "For healing." He added, a small smile gracing his face.

"But I don't need healing." Dean replied when he found his voice again. 

"Maybe not now, and maybe not soon, but maybe before all this you will."

'Is everyone so freaking cryptic here?' Dean thought. 

"If you were anywhere than maybe, its possible." The man said with a smile, then turning, walked away.

Before Dean had any time to process anything, he heard a pop close to his feet. Looking down he saw a firecracker, still slightly smoking. He looked up to find the man who had been sitting on a mausoleum earlier, standing in front of him. In his hands he held a lighter and a few more firecrackers.

"What's with that?" Dean asked.

The man laughed. "No reason. But I must be going now. I just realized I missed my time. If I go back then maybe I can catch it this time." Again, super cryptic.

"What about your friend?" Dean asked to his retreating back.

"Well, why don't you stay and keep Anna company?" He laughed before he too, disappeared. 

Dean looked over to the girl, still perched on the stone building. Standing up, he waved goodbye to the older woman he'd shared a bench with before walking over to the girl. He had planned to stop and talk to her, but she just shook her head, a soft smile on her lips before tilting her head and sending him off in another direction. 

He waved to her as well as he turned to start walking. His bag getting heavier and heavier. Her parting words made him almost smile. "Its always a last night one earth, isn't it Dean?"

He could hear the thunder in the distance, but he felt that he probably had a little while before the storm caught up with him. He found a trail by the river and started walking along next to it. His bag on his shoulder weighing him down. Off in the distance he thought he heard voices so he picked up his pace. There were two voices, one a woman, and one a man who sounded achingly familiar. So familiar he felt his chest constrict. He ran. Ran as fast as he possibly could. He knew this voice was important. Sweat beaded and fell on his forehead, his legs near giving out, his ears ringing, and still he ran. Then suddenly, everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter up soon! Sorry if this is a little confusing, it's supposed to be. Hopefully it will all make sense soon! (Even to myself)   
> Comments and Kudos are love!  
> Come find me on Tumblr, lindzecrow2y5


	5. Peaceful Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Remember, just remember." The words were whispered against Dean's lips. Moist breath ghosted across his mouth before soft chapped lips were pressed against Dean's own. The hunter wrapped his arms around the shorter man, holding tightly on to him. Their bodies pressed together as close as possible. Dean could feel the fog all around him, pressing in hard against the two men, but he didn't want to open his eyes, he didn't want to let go, he didn't want to forget.

The next time Dean awoke, it was to an eerie silence. The silence was the kind that Dean had felt many times before, the kind where something or someone is lying in wait. This time, Dean held a memory, a memory of hearing voices. Voices, and running. He remembered that one of the voices had been important, but he couldn't place why that was. He knew he was keeping a memory that he wasn't supposed to have, and it made him wonder how many times he had woken with none, how many things he had forgotten? And he wondered, why was he not supposed to remember anything? What was doing this? How many times had he woken up like this already, a pain in his head and his only memory being his own name?

A sound came from behind him, and Dean was glad that he had woken up on his side. He somehow knew he had faked out people or things before because he had been lucky enough to wake up on his side with the bad thing behind him. He knew he could fake sleeping. He just didn't exactly know how he knew all this. 

The noise came again, but closer. It was almost a scuffling noise, like someone was walking, dragging their feet. And with the scuffling, there was a swishing noise. Maybe the person was wearing a coat?

"Yes Dean, I am. But you know that. I'm always wearing this coat. Well, mostly always. For a time, you kept it safe for me. When I didn't know who I was. Now I think I know who I am, but I think you don't. You don't know who you are, do you Dean?" The voice was rough, even in its whisper. "I'm not the only one here Dean, you must be careful. I don't like conflict any longer, but I worry what will happen if you stay like that. I worry what will happen if you stay here. You can't stay Dean. But perhaps you knew that already." The scuffling stopped and in its place a sound like wings fluttering, and Dean could feel that whoever had been standing behind him was no longer there. Somehow that seemed worse where just moments before he had wanted to be alone.

"Well big brother, you're not alone any longer!" A new voice, an angry one spoke from behind him. Dean had just enough time to roll onto his back before the new person had jumped on top of him. 

Dean didn't recognize the boy, but he didn't have the time to worry about what he had said. A fist connected with his jaw before he could stop it but on the next swing the arm was caught. 

Dean looked up to see who he assumed was the first man to have spoken to him holding the younger man's arm at what looked like a painful angle. "I told you, I don't like conflict." The man spoke softly.

Dean pulled himself out from under the younger man, quickly backing up to stand against a wall. "What the hell was that?" He asked, putting a hand to his lip where it was already starting to swell and bleed. 

The one on the floor looked up, his green eyes enraged. "You shouldn't have stopped me Castiel! I need to finish him!" The boy spat.

Dean looked from the boy to the man. The man looked familiar, messy dark hair and big blue eyes. But that name the other had called him. 'Castiel', that name… He knew it. He knew he did. A sharp pain shot through his head, bringing him to his knees. He cried out, "Castiel!" Not knowing why.

Suddenly, the pain was gone. He dropped his hands to the floor, trying to hold himself up. As his vision finally cleared, he blinked, taking in the scene in front of him. The man, Castiel, was standing far into his personal space, his hand outstretched to touch Dean's face, but he looked scared. Dean muttered a 'thanks' but didn't really know why he did. Maybe because this man had kept him from being beaten by a kid, but that didn't feel right. Somehow he knew the man in front of him had done more than that. He finally looked up at Castiel's face, and there was a smile in his blue eyes. 

"You're welcome Dean." He said, taking Dean's hand and pulling him to his feet. 

Dean still tasted blood, but his lip felt healed. "Huh." He muttered to himself before walking over to where the boy now sat. He really looked like he was sulking. "So kid, what was that for?"

"You're not supposed to be here. He isn't either," He added, nodding his head to Castiel. "None of us are supposed to be here. How was this even done? It's impossible." 

"What are you talking about? What's impossible? And who the fuck are you any way? In fact, where the fuck are we?" Dean demanded.

"Nowhere, everywhere." Castiel muttered from behind him.

"My name is Adam." The boy said, crossing his arms and looking very intently at a spot on the floor.

"Do not lie brother. That isn't your name." Castiel said, walking forward to stand beside Dean. "You shouldn't lie here, it won't help anything."

"I am Adam though Castiel."

"No, you know you are not. Not here, not anywhere. That boy is gone," He paused. "Or maybe he is not. Here is technically everywhere, a pit in a pendulum. Swinging our whole world, every world. All of them combined. Eaten away."

"Sure, whatever Cas." Dean muttered, figuring that his new 'friend' was just a bit crazy. Maybe both of them were. He finally looked around and realized they were in a hospital room. "What the fu-"

"No, we are not Dean. Don't believe everything you see." Castiel interrupted. "This was a joke to him, a joke that has stuck. But it has only held because It decides that it should. Or maybe it doesn't. Perhaps It does not even care."

'Yep, crazy.' Dean thought.

"Lucifer enjoyed this, but now where is Lucifer? Has he joined along with It? I would think he would harbor some resentment." The boy, Adam, spoke.

"Finally, you say who you truly are. Thank you Michael." Castiel smiled. "But no, I believe that he has no choice in the matter either. None of us do, none of us ever will. Unless," He paused, turning to face Dean. "Unless of course you stop it." The light in his eyes was stronger now, glowing blue. 

There was a new noise in the room, Dean noticed. But it seemed less like the noise was in the room so much as the room WAS the noise.

"So be it, this is how it ends." Ada- No, Michael said, closing his eyes.

The room started to shake and suddenly the windows shattered. A black fog rolled in through them, surrounding the three men. "What the hell is happening?" Dean asked, raising his voice to be heard, and maybe just a little out of fear.

Castiel pressed himself close to Dean, grabbing his face between his now glowing hands, forcing eye contact. "Stop it Dean, you must!" 

"But how am I supposed to do that?" Dean was shaking right along with the room.

"Remember, just remember." The words were whispered against Dean's lips. Moist breath ghosted across his mouth before soft chapped lips were pressed against Dean's own. The hunter wrapped his arms around the shorter man, holding tightly on to him. Their bodies pressed together as close as possible. Dean could feel the fog all around him, pressing in hard against the two men, but he didn't want to open his eyes, he didn't want to let go, he didn't want to forget.

"Remember." Whispered through his mind before everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The crazy just gets crazier! But at least Dean is able to keep some memory now. Comments and kudos are love (and inspire me to write more)  
> Come find me on Tumblr, lindzecrow2y5


	6. My 'Friend' the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He put one foot under himself, pushing himself to stand. "Neither of you are real." He whispered, gritting his teeth against the pain. "You never were, not really. That’s the difference this time. Everyone else was at least real at some point."

Dean woke up on hard pavement. Every bone in his body ached, but he wasn't sure why. He heard voices approaching so he quickly sat up, hoping to intercept whoever it was. Maybe they knew where he was, 'cause he sure didn't. He looked to his left and in the other lane lay Baby, smashed to pieces. Dean's heart broke at seeing his car in such shape.

'Wait,' Dean thought. 'I remember this! I was here at some point. I was here when this all started!' He then started to wonder if the two people approaching were the ones he saw when his car magically wrecked itself after being struck by the most intense lightning.

He stood up, his body protesting every movement, but he knew he had to hide. If it was the man and woman from before, he couldn't be seen by them. He didn't know how he knew this, but he did. Even though it killed him to see Baby in such a condition, he hid behind her, waiting. 

The voices grew closer until finally he could see them, and damn was he confused. The man was wearing a white suit with a red rose tucked into the pocket. His chestnut hair really needed a trim, Dean thought. The woman however, was quite beautiful, but she was wearing scrubs. What had brought these two people out dressed that way? They stopped and looked around. Dean knew he couldn't be seen from where they were standing, but somehow the man zeroed in on him. The smirk that appeared on his face sent shivers down Dean's spine.

"Oh Dean," The man spoke. "You don't have to hide from us! We're here just for you." His tone was happy, but there was something underneath. Something that Dean didn't like.

"Come on out sweetie, you know you don't have to hide from me." The woman spoke. And really, this girl was like every perfect dream woman he could imagine, but something still didn't feel right.

He gave up anyway, stepping out from behind Baby. "Who are you?" He asked them.

"Oh," The girl sounded sad. "You don't remember us Dean? How bad was that car accident?" She just sounded so sweet, and the man looked so familiar Dean wanted to go to them. He wanted to feel safe with someone, but something was missing. Someone was missing.

At the thought, a sharp pain shot through his head, bringing him to his knees. His head in his hands he persisted. "Where is he?" He demanded.

"Who are you talking about?" The man asked, taking a step closer to Dean.

The woman looked like she wanted to run to him, but Dean held up a hand. "Don't come any closer. Just tell me where he is!" He tried again. He knew he probably didn't look too intimidating on the ground, but he didn't think he could get back up. Finally, a thought came to him. "Where's the angel?" 

"Dean, I have no idea what you are talking about. Angels don't exist honey!" Now, every time the woman spoke, something in him cringed.

"You…" He trailed off. His head was pounding but at the same time something, some memory was trying to come through. He looked to the side of the road, off into the tree line. Standing alone this time, a man. He was wearing such a simple outfit, jeans and a white and green shirt, but something about him screamed power. This man smiled at Dean and nodded his head once before looking behind himself. When he turned back around there was fear in his eyes and as Dean watched, the man disappeared. Somehow though, the man had given him a few memories. 

He put one foot under himself, pushing himself to stand. "Neither of you are real." He whispered, gritting his teeth against the pain. "You never were, not really. That’s the difference this time. Everyone else was at least real at some point."

"Dean, you don't know what you're saying. You hit your head in the accid-" 

He cut the woman off. "No. I'm sorry Carmen, but you were just a figment of my imagination. And now, I remember."

"Dean, stop!" She cried.

But he couldn't. "No, you were never real. And you!" He nearly shouted, turning to the man. "You're not my brother, and you never existed like this either!"

The man, no, the fallen angel, laughed. "Oh Dean, She thought you wouldn't figure this out so soon. Maybe she should have known." Lucifer hung his head, but it wasn't in sadness. Maybe just defeat.

"Who? Who is she?" Dean asked, beginning to shake with anger. "And where is he? He's been here every time hasn't he, at least in some way?"

"I can't answer you Dean, you know that." 

'Really', Dean thought. 'I've always hated Lucifer.'

"No matter what meatsuit, you're always pretty annoying." Dean taunted. "But tell me. If you can't tell me who 'she' is, then at least tell me where he is this time." He turned to Carmen, hoping she might be a little more help.

"I.. I ha-" She stuttered as if scared. "I have to go!" And Dean watched as she ran off.

"One last time Lucifer," He started, his hands clenched into fists. "Where is" And finally, his mind supplied him with a name. A name he had thought and said and prayed so many times before. "CASTIEL!" He nearly screamed.

Suddenly, both Lucifer and Baby disappeared. Well the wrecked version of Baby did. He heard the all too familiar rumble behind him, coming up fast. He turned around, wondering who was in the driver's seat when she pulled up next to him, slowing down. He wondered if he would see himself in the car, another figment, but no. The door swung open the second the car came to a stop and Dean looked in, more surprised than he thought he'd ever been. 

"Hello Dean, now get in. We don't have much time." Another familiar rumble. Maybe that was why Dean had always liked the angel's voice. 

Sliding into the passenger seat, he was confused, but somehow he felt like this was the real Cas. His Cas. And as the door closed and the dome light shut off, everything went dark, but not black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we are nearing the end of this journey, but who knows? I may have a few more ideas! At least its getting a little more coherent. Comments and kudos are love (and inspire me to write more)!  
> Come find me on Tumblr, lindzecrow2y5

**Author's Note:**

> Dun dun dun...  
> So this was just a prologue, there will be quite a bit more! But some of the chapters may be short, some may be really long. Just hang in there with me folks, and hopefully we'll all have a fun ride!  
> My posting schedule may be odd for a while, but I hope to get in the hang of things!


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